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<title>a secret place (a sweet escape) by Fives (janfives90)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741135">a secret place (a sweet escape)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/janfives90/pseuds/Fives'>Fives (janfives90)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bakery AU, F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/janfives90/pseuds/Fives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s about to tell whoever entered that they aren’t open yet when she pauses, getting a good look at the woman standing in the shop.</p>
<p>She looks exhausted, shoulders slumped and eyes half-closed as she grips the strap of her backpack.</p>
<p>“Can I help you?” Alyssa asks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a secret place (a sweet escape)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The smell of flour and spices fills the bakery as Alyssa works on prepping doughs, batters, and fillings. She checks on the bread in the oven, then walks out to the front when she hears the bell chime of the door opening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s about to tell whoever entered that they aren’t open yet when she pauses, getting a good look at the woman standing in the shop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks exhausted, shoulders slumped and eyes half-closed as she grips the strap of her backpack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” Alyssa asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M’sorry,” the woman mumbles. “Do you have any coffee?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just put some on to heat. It’ll take a few minutes. Is that okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’fine.” The woman rubs at her eyes and wanders over to one of the tables, almost sitting down where there isn’t even a chair before Alyssa rushes out from behind the counter and takes one off the table for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Alyssa asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Four layovers plus jetlag then work then class then a night shift then a paper and now I have eight more hours of work,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “I’m okay but I think I might die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus. When does work start?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What time is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Four-thirty in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Huh. Not ‘til seven.” The woman runs a hand over her face. “Fuck, but it’s not long enough to go home and sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here. Why don’t you take a nap in my breakroom, and I’ll wake you in an hour so you can have some coffee and try to get your brain in gear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman blinks at her, confused. “You don’t even know my name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I can relate. Come on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the woman stands, she says, “Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Name’s Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gives a soft grin. “Nice to meet you, Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At five-thirty, Emma is sitting at one of the tables in the bakery, drinking a large cup of coffee and looking at the pastries Alyssa is putting out in the case. “What is that one that you’re putting out now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a raspberry tart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool. Can I buy one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa laughs. “You didn’t even know what it is, and you’re going to try it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma shrugs. “I trust you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa brings it over on a small plate with a fork and sets it down in front of her. “Are you feeling any better?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My brain isn’t completely malfunctioning anymore, which is nice. Thank you for that. I’ll still need a good night’s sleep when I get home from work, but that little bit helped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma looks around the shop and frowns. “Are you… Are you open?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa gives a sheepish smile. “Not yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I would’ve told you, but you looked half-dead, and I felt bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if it’s any consolation, this tart thing is amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa laughs and heads back behind the counter. “I’ll note that down.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Emma returns the next morning at six-thirty and leans against the counter as Alyssa gets her coffee. “What’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be a peanut butter and jelly macaron.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take two.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa holds Emma’s coffee just out of reach and gives her a look. “Are you just buying things to pay me back for letting you nap here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what if I am? I need breakfast somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a small smile and a shake of her head, Alyssa sets the coffee down on the counter and sets two macarons in a container.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma winks at her. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome. Did you sleep last night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma drinks from her coffee and grins. “Not enough!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On Thursday morning, Emma taps on the glass, and before she even asks, Alyssa says, “That’s an eclair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ve heard of those. I’ll take one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How much have you slept now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m getting there.” Emma takes her coffee and her eclair from Alyssa. “If I tell you that I’ve gotten enough, do I get a prize?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you find out once you pull off that miracle?” Alyssa shoots back. She covers her mouth as soon as she does, flustered by the obvious flirtation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma shrugs. “I might have to not tell you until you’re off of work, then, but that’s fine.” She gives a small smirk that makes Alyssa blush, then heads off to the table that she’s started to claim as her own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Emma arrives on Friday, she points at a pastry and says, “What’s this one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, come on,” Alyssa says as she pours Emma’s coffee. “You can’t tell me that you don’t know what a croissant is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, maybe I don’t. You don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa squints at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t prove anything.” Emma grins. “Can I get six of them? I’ll bring them into work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you seven, because you’re annoying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that all it takes to get free food from you? I can be so much more annoying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa rolls her eyes and hands over the coffee and the bag of croissants. “Go away, Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma laughs. “I’ll see you on Monday, Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaves before Alyssa remembers to tell her that Monday is her day off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, honey?” Mrs. Greene asks with a frown as Alyssa rushes into the bakery just before six o’clock. “You’re off today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you know, just got bored.” Alyssa rolls out a cookie dough she made the night before, cuts them out into shapes, and sticks them into the oven. “Can’t I come in to help my wonderful mother when I want to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene stares at her. “Something’s definitely wrong with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa scowls at her. “Wow, Mom. Wow.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At six-twenty-nine, Alyssa pours a fresh cup of coffee, smiling softly. Mrs. Greene watches her out of the corner of her eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Alyssa asks defensively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t saying anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty loudly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene just smirks and looks away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At exactly six-thirty, Emma walks into the bakery, and Alyssa walks out from behind the counter, intercepting her before she can join the line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” Alyssa says, grabbing her arm and pulling her over to her table. “I was expecting you.” She sets the coffee down in front of Emma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s that?” Emma asks curiously, looking at Mrs. Greene as she works.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, that’s my mother. We own this place together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’s she in today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s… maybe my day off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma looks up at her, frowning. “Alyssa, you didn’t have t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, uhm, enjoy your coffee! Have a nice day!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa bolts off, rejoining her mother and giving a soft groan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene doesn’t look at her as she says, “You look like you handled that well. Should I start thinking of recipes for wedding cakes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> not helping.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Emma gets to the shop at four-thirty on Tuesday morning, knocking politely before letting herself in. “You should really keep that thing locked until you open, Alyssa,” she says softly. “You never know what kind of riffraff you might let in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa smiles at her and turns on the coffee pot to brew. “You’re very early this morning. Another night shift?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but I promise I got some sleep before I came over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Alyssa walks over and sits down across from Emma at the table, setting down a cup of coffee and a small plate of cookies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, look at them, the little cats,” Emma says as she picks on up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re my favorite, but I don’t get to make them very often because they take more time than I can really put into them for this sort of business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Makes sense,” Emma says with a nod, biting into one. “Hm. Cardamom, orange, and cinnamon? That’s a really good cookie.” She pauses as she chews, noticing Alyssa staring at her. “What?” she mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You try to convince me that you don’t know what a croissant is, but you can precisely identify the flavors added to a sugar cookie? I’m pretty sure you’re full of shit, is ‘what’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma clears her throat, looking embarrassed as she takes a drink of coffee. “I mean. In my defense, you never asked my full name, nor did you ask where I work or what I was going to school for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa’s voice takes on a dangerous tone. “Emma…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nolan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa pales. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Emma Nolan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like… Nolan’s? The restaurant down the street?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my grandmother’s, but yeah. I work there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re in culinary school, I swear I might kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma gives an apologetic smile. “Oops?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa groans and sets her head down on the table. “You’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These are still really good cookies, though.” Emma takes another one off the plate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why have you been asking what everything is when you obviously know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, I haven’t done pastry yet, so there are a few things in here I don’t know that well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa glares at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Plus, I like hearing you talk. Especially when it’s about something you clearly love to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Alyssa says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, I’ve sort of made this my nice little morning spot to just relax before work and watch you do your thing, because it’s nice to see that kind of passion in people. That probably sounds creepy, though, which I’m sorry for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe a little, but… not as much coming from you.” Alyssa rubs the back of her neck. “I’ve sort of been trying to work up the nerve to write my number on your coffee cup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma grins. “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma slides her cup over to Alyssa and takes a pen out of her bag. “Here.” She holds it out to Alyssa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa blinks at her. “...What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still have a little bit of coffee left. There’s time to write your number down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a long pause, Alyssa takes the pen and writes her full name, her number, and a little smiley face on the side of Emma’s cup, then slides both the cup and the pen back to Emma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma looks at it and feigns surprise. “Wow, the cute bakery owner gave me her number. I’ll have to put that in my phone and call her later to ask her out to dinner. As long as she doesn’t pick Nolan’s, because I really won’t survive that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa giggles, then says, “Oh, I’m definitely picking Nolan’s. You’ve been testing out the food at my place for a week, Em, it’s only fair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm. I may regret this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a chance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma grins and puts Alyssa’s number in her phone before standing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm. But you’d better </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why wait until tonight?” Emma turns and walks out of the bakery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa stares after her, confused, until the phone in her pocket rings. “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Have a nice day, Alyssa Greene.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa laughs and leans back in her chair. “Have a nice day, Emma Nolan.”</span>
</p>
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